


Make a wish

by thistels



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Be Careful What You Wish For, First Time, Genie in a lamp, Good Intentions, Loki is a bad guy, M/M, Magic, Misunderstandings, Nick Fury is an asshole, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sexual Coercion, Slavery, Sort Of, Temporary Amnesia, Touch-Starved, Virgin Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, but not until later, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistels/pseuds/thistels
Summary: The dust from the battle of New York has just settled and Captain America is running missions for SHIELD. One one of those missions he stumbles across a lamp which he proceeds to rub his pretty hands over because he's curious alright. It wasn't like he'd expected something,someone,to come out of said lamp. And he certainly hadn't been expecting it to be a sassy, lazy, adorable, beautiful and dangerously charming man who was apparently not a man but a Genie. And there was no way he had been expecting that genie to be the same elusive assassin that had been terrorizing SHIELD and the world for decades.Turns out the geine is only working for Hydra because he is compelled to by magic. So if only Steve can find and kill the leader of Hydra who is the genies current master he can not only save the world from Hydra but also set the genie free by making a wish. Nothing could possibly go wrong right? (Everything goes wrong, especially when Loki hears intergalactic rumors about a dimension with genie-problems and comes to see what's up.)





	1. Prolog I

**Author's Note:**

> There's probably a few grammar mistakes and things like that baked into this piece, but I find that going through a text too much kills my creativity haha.

_“He was fast, and strong. I can take a man’s head off with my shield but when I threw it he caught it like a Frisbee. When he kicked me I was knocked so far back I crashed into a semi-truck in the opposing lane. When I got back up Agent Thirteen was dead and he had completely vanished. How is that possible?”_ The Captain who rarely even raised his voice was railing, pacing around the room, fists clenching and unclenching in frustration as he thought back on the failed mission and the lives lost.

 

 _”Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. But those who do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with at least three dozen assassinations in the last 50 years. And those are the ones we know about.”_ The red headed woman said calmly, but there was a stiffness to her posture that wasn’t usually there. Her voice was more dramatic than the Captain had ever heard her, she wasn’t usually one for storytelling and emotions.

 

 _”So he’s a ghost story?”_ The Captain bit out. Later he would cringe at how rude he sounded, but in the heat of the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t have time for superstition. There was a very real threat out there and he needed facts, not whispers.

 

 _”Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Someone shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control and went straight off a cliff. I pulled us out but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him straight through me.”_ The Black Widow’s confession was what made the Captain take her words to heart. She didn’t fail missions, just like he didn’t fail missions and now it seemed they had both been outmaneuvered by the same ghost.

 

 _”Going after him is a dead end. I know, I’ve tried.”_ The woman intercepted before the Captain could demand all information SHIELD had on this Soldier. He frowned, because he couldn’t just let someone like that walk around freely, especially not after he killed a SHIELD-agent.

 

_“He doesn’t exist outside of his missions. Even Jarvis couldn’t find him outside when he scanned through every single surveillance source in the city. It’s like you said, he just vanished.”_

 

 _“People don’t just vanish.”_ The Captain said skeptically. He didn’t care for ghost stories or wild speculations.

 

 _“I don’t think he’s a person.”_ The Black Widow said ominously.

 

 _“You think we’ll run into him again_?” The Captain asked, disregarding her statement.

 

 _“I don’t know. We’ve never been able to discern a pattern among his victims and we can’t tell who he’s working for, or if he has his own agenda. We don’t know anything about his targets until after he strikes and it’s always a surprise when he does.”_ The woman who was usually an expert at controlling her expressions and never showing any fear was visibly shaken by the fact that the Winter Soldier was in the city.

 

 _“Can’t we lure him out or something?”_ The Captain mused out loud, fighting the urge to back away from the windows in the room to make himself less vulnerable from an outside attack. He didn’t believe in ghost stories.

 

_“We would, but like I said. We don’t know what he wants, or why he does what he does.”_


	2. Prolog II

The van swayed dangerously to the left, almost tipping over as the Widow struggled with the driver. He’d been more heavily armed than they’d expected and giving even her a struggle.

 

 _“Natasha.”_ The Captain called from the roof of the car, hanging on by the rails on the side of the roof. It wouldn’t hurt much if he fell but the van contained valuable and presumably dangerous items that maybe shouldn’t be rocked quite this much.

 

 _“I’ve got it.”_ The Black Widow called, just as the car got back on all four wheels again and the sounds of fighting lessened enough that the Captain assumed only one of the men in the front seat were left conscious.

 

He punched through the reinforced side of the car, knuckles bleeding once he made a hole in the metal. The driver and the Widow kept struggling in the front as he tore part the side of the van open with his hands but it at least the car kept steady. Once he climbed inside he found that most of the shipment inside seemed undisturbed by the rough ride, except for one box which had fallen open on the floor.

 

 _“We good?”_ He called the Widow as the sounds of struggle stopped, getting a honk of the car’s horn in reply.

 

 _“All good here.”_ He shouted back, shuffling over to the box that had spilled its content onto the floor. At first it looked like a bunch of black fabric, but when he gathered it up in his hands he heard a metallic clang as the real content fell to the floor.

 

The van made a turn, pulling off the main road to someplace where they could park inconspicuously and the Captain took the object from the floor. It was a lamp, smooth shining silver and just about the last thing he expected to find in among the other boxes of weapons and ammunition that the van held. As the car stopped the Captain put it down the back of his pants like other agents might hide a gun, letting the leather jacket cover the top of it. He was glad he hadn’t worn his uniform for the mission, opting for stealth this time. By the time the Widow made her way to the back of the car he’d put the box back where it was supposed to go and she seemed more interested in making sure that the cargo was safe than reflect on the fact that he didn’t turn his back on her once.


	3. Hands of the merchandise!

Warmth started to spread through the Soldier's frozen limbs as he felt the familiar pull of someone summoning him. He was surprised to feel that it wasn't his master calling him though. He knew how Pierces touch felt by now, it was the only one he'd felt for several years. He was used to cold, greedy hands rubbing over the lamp he was encased in as the man somehow made the stoking both punishing and commanding.

These were definitely not the hands of that man. These were warmer than the Soldier had ever felt, the body heat bringing him into consciousness faster than he was used too. The hands were large and heavy and definitely male, though stroking with a curious carefulness that the soldier had never expected from anyone working for Hydra. The Soldiers curiosity was officially peaked and he was eager to see who was on the other side of his confinements. It was bound to be a new mission waiting as well of course and he wasn't looking forward to more of Hydra’s orders but at least Pierce wouldn't be there. Whatever they wanted from him now, whatever mission they wanted to send him on his master wouldn't be a part of it this time and that was a blessing.

The gentle, warm stroking continued as his body thawed and as he felt himself materialize the Soldier mourned the loss of the touch. It had been remarkably nice. He was used to the touch of bloodstained hands rubbing hard along the lamp, eager to claim their price. Greedy fingers hurriedly sweeping over metal in anticipation or occasionally disbelieving and annoyed strokes of someone who didn't know what they possessed.

The unexpected amount of light around him stunned him as he appeared completely outside of his lamp. This was definitely a new venue. The last decade he'd been awoken to underground bunkers and dark secret facilities. He blinked at the daylight streaming in from floor-to-celing-windows (contemporary architecture was definitely one of the best things about the 21sth century). The city outside was undoubtedly New York which was confusing, considering that he knew he'd been in route for his masters home in DC when he’d gone into the lamp.

The pleasant touch of smooth warm hands was suddenly turned into painful squeeze around his ankle that had him turning his attention to the man who had summoned him. The Soldier scowled, giving his best furious glare at the man who was causing him pain. He wasn't actually holding his leg, instead the man’s fingers were curled tightly against the handle of the lamp, an extension of himself for some stupid magic reason, knuckles going white as the Soldier bared his teeth in pain. Fuck, this man was _strong_.

"Hey! Hands of the merchandise!" The Soldier called when the man didn't make a move to let go of the lamp. The chocked expression on his face would have been pretty comical if he hadn't been squeezing hard enough to stop the blood flow to the Soldier's foot. Not that he needed blood flow in his feet to be functional of course, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

The grip, probably induced by chock was certainly an interesting reaction to the Soldier's appearances. Judging from the man's expression when the Soldier spoke you'd think he'd grown a second head or something like that instead of just coming out of his lamp when he was being summoned. This kid obviously didn't know what had just been rubbing his paws all over.

"Put the lamp down pal." He said, gritting the words out between his teeth because the man's grip was hard enough to break bones if the Soldier had been a regular mortal man. "It hurts." He added, usually not all that eager to reveal a weakness to someone but the man's mental capacity seemed a bit limited by the chock. The admission of pain had an effect though and the man abruptly dropped the lamp like it was on fire. The Soldier couldn't help rolling his eyes as is landed with a thud on the floor because really, wasn't it obvious that that would hurt as well? But the fall was dampened by the ridiculously thick carpet covering the floor so it didn't hurt all that much.

The Soldier kept scowling at the man as he reached back to rub a hand over his ankle to encourage some blood flow to return to the area. This wasn't one of Pierce's underlings, that much was obvious. And the Soldier didn't feel that familiar pull to obey the man which meant he probably wasn't that much of a threat. He remained on his knees on the carpet though, just in case the man was about to order him around. He didn't know quite how his stupid brain knew who was an ally of his master and who wasn’t, but magic compelled him to obey them whether he knew why or not.

"Um..." The man started, carefully backing away from the Soldier like he was the one who was dangerous. And yeah sure he was capable of doing a lot of damage, but it wasn't like he was going to attack unprovoked. He was the one who had been summoned for no apparent reason by someone who definitely shouldn’t be having his lamp, he should be the one looking confused and weary.

The Soldier caught the other man's glance to the side, his body language screaming his intention of looking for a weapon, and he instinctively followed the man's eyes. He was about to tell the man not to bother - he was a genie coming out of a lamp, it was pretty dumb to think that a kitchen knife or a gun or whatever weapon the man had at hand would hurt him. But recognition hit him hard as he looked at a brightly colored shield leaning against a wall. He recognized that shield - he'd fought its owner in a brutal match not five days ago.

He did a quick double-take of the man in front of him. He wasn't wearing the mask covering his eyes and hair or the ridiculously out-decked patriotic uniform anymore but it was definitely the man who had interfered with his last mission. An impossible shoulder to waist ratio, stupidly righteous blue eyes and a, let’s be honest, gorgeous jawline. The man had also interfered while the Soldier had been tasked with eliminating a target and he'd been the last worthy opponent the Soldier had faced in decades.

"If I wanted to attack you I would have done it already." The Soldier said as he saw the man deciding to go for his shield. The words stopped the man before he could dart toward his weapon, surprising the Soldier with his willingness to listen. He hadn't actually expected the man to stop, his muscles already tensing to dodge the unavoidable strike of the man's massive arm. He didn't really know how to handle a truce these days - hadn't had one in decades.

"Who are you?" The man asked, taking a more neutral stance when the Soldier remained quiet and refrained from attacking like he promised.

"I've got a lot of names." The Soldier shrugged, toes shifting a little in the mat under him. He didn't feel the overwhelming urge to obey the man's slightest request which meant he wasn't affiliated with his master, and therefor he didn't have to remain in the submissive position on his knees. But it made him seem more vulnerable than he was, less of a threat, and he was stumbling blind as to who this man actually was, what his intentions were and how he had ended up here. And if he was underestimated, all the better for him. He could handle some more time on his knees, it wasn't like he had any actual pride left by now.

The man frowned at his answer, he obviously had no humor, and took a few large steps to get closer to the Soldier. The Soldier swallowed reflexively as he was forced to angle his face a bit in order to look the man in the eye. Sure, he was a supernatural being that couldn't die, but he could feel pain and the man wasn't just large, he was huge. The t-shirt he wore stretched over his torso like it was getting paid good money to show off every ridge of muscle on the man, and their fight was fresh in the Soldier's memory. The man had almost fucked up the mission - derailed it for a full hour before the Soldier could shake him, turn things around and kill his target. He'd finally kicked the man into a semi-truck blaring through traffic at high speed, but it looked like the man had gotten right back up again. A purple bruise was fading at the man's cheek, the same size of the Soldier's fist and now that he thought about it, it looked like the man was favoring his right side a bit. But other than that he looked completely unscathed by the kind of fight that no regular human would have survived.

"What are you?" The man rephrased, much more authority in his voice now. He was obviously a man who was used to having his questions answered and his orders obeyed. Well, those were his problems, not the Soldier's. The fact that he'd interfered in the Soldier's mission made him distinctly not Hydra, which meant he had no obligation to obey a single word. And it also meant he was officially on a vacation.

Awesome.

"I'll tell you what I'm not - granting you wishes. Just cause you rubbed your hands all over me doesn't make you my master." The Soldier said, the words coming out more defensive than he’d liked it too. He was going for casual, like he wasn’t at all intimidated by the man or what he might to with all of that extra strength. But it wasn’t easy to pretend he was unaffected, the man just _huge_.

"I- uh... huh?" The Soldier was tempted to smile at the man's confusion, which was confusing in and of itself. He usually had very little tolerance for people who stumbled across his lamp, summoned him and then acted like they were surprised when a genie came out or acted like there had to be a reasonable explanation for what had just happened when the reasonable explanation obviously was that he was a genie in a lamp. But there was something about seeing this man who was such a capable fighter and a mountain of muscle completely stunned by his appearance that made the Soldier feel a bit forgiving. It probably also had a lot to do with those puppy eyes.

He decided to indulge the man for a while. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't Hydra for a change, those people didn't look at him twice unless they wanted something from him. The Soldier looked over to the discarded lamp on the floor, and then slowly back to the blonde man, raising an eyebrow and waiting for the man to catch up.

"You-" the blonde started, looking between the lamp and the Soldier fast enough that he probably got dizzy. "What."

The Soldier rolled his eyes but it wasn't mean spirited this time. "'I’m a genie, genious. Ya know, rub the lamp, make a wish. ‘Cept it ain't that easy."

"Oh. Shit. I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." The man trailed off, a blush rising to the surface of his cheeks as he trailed off, eyes sliding off the Soldier. He was obviously expecting the Soldier to say something, put him out of his awkward misery, but the Soldier was having way too much fun watching the otherwise powerful man squirm. "...to wake you?" He offered, blush becoming more intense as he forced his eyes to meet the Soldier again. It was pretty adorable how he looked worried that maybe he'd picked an offensive term or something.

"Naah, don't sweat it. Did me a favor. It's an ice-box in there." He said, shivering slightly at the memory. "Literally." He added bitterly before looking around the apartment. Everything had a sleek and gorgeous design and it was obvious that no expenses had been spared on anything. It was the perfect place for a vacation. His attention was quickly pulled back though as a bone-chilling, freezing breeze swept through the room at the same time that he felt the phantom pressure of the man's hands on him again. He threw his head around just in time to see the man open the lid on the lamp and stick a finger inside.

"No! Don't!" He cried, scrambling off the floor to get man away from the lamp's frozen interior. The man snatched his finger back with impressive reflexes, closing the lid and sealing in the cold before the Soldier could even get to him. He let out a shaky breath as he brought the finger up to his face for inspection, his other hand still holding on to the lamp. The Soldier didn't hesitate to step into the man's space, but made sure to keep the man's empty hand between himself and the lamp. Wouldn't want to risk getting too close to that thing.

 The tip of the man’s finger was an angry shade of red and looked like it really hurt but it could have been way worse. It _should_ have been way worse.

 “What are _you_?” The Soldier asked, peering suspiciously at the man. He was obviously more than just a lot stronger than your average Joe.

 “What?” The man responded, way too quickly for a man who had nothing to hide.

 “Last time someone tried that they got frostbite so bad they lost two fingers.” The Soldier said, looking the man up and down properly now that he was closer. They’d been close during the fighting of course, but the Soldier hadn’t really had any time to study his opponent as they traded punches. “And I can’t really remember the last time someone gave me an actual fight.”

 “That’s classified.” The man answered, eyes narrowing like the Soldier was asking too many questions, but there was a hint of a smile on the man’s lips. The Soldier absentmindedly wondered how much human interaction the man was getting in his every day life.

“I’ll trade ya for it.” The Soldier said, not realizing how suggestive it sounded until the words were said. “Tell me, and I’ll tell you something you want to know.” He offered quickly so that the other wouldn’t be tempted to read an offer of sexual services into his suggestion.

“I was enhanced by a serum. It made me stronger, faster. Better.” The man sounded a little bitter, maybe self-deprecating, toward the end and the Soldier filed that knowledge away for later. “Why aren’t you attacking me?” The change of subject was quick and deliberate, like he wanted to distract the Soldier from what he’d just revealed.

“Didn’t feel like it.” The Soldier shrugged, and it was the simple truth. He hadn’t felt the compelling urge to fulfill a mission even though the man was an enemy to Hydra, so he hadn’t. He’d gotten in the way of the Soldier’s last mission, but he hadn’t been a part of the mission originally and he hadn’t been ordered to try and kill or capture the man.

“Who do you work for?” The man asked, posture sensing up a bit like he was preparing for a fight despite the fact that the Soldier had said he wouldn’t fight him.

“Nope, my turn.” The Soldier dismissed, a bit insulted by the man’s suspicion. Just because the last time they’d met he’d been killing an agent in a high-speed car-chase didn’t mean that that was all there was too him. “How’d you get the lamp?”

The man looked torn between answering and keeping his classified secrets for a while before making his mind up. There was a spark of curiosity and genuine interest in his eyes as he watched the Soldier. Then the blush started creeping back into his features as he took a breath before answering.

“I stole it.” He admitted sheepishly, and from his reaction the Soldier assumed stealing things wasn’t a habit for him. He knew thieves, people who stole his lamp specifically or those who stumbled upon the treasure accidentally, and this man was nothing like them.

“You stole it, huh?” The Soldier pressed.

“Nope, my turn now. Who do you work for?” The man mirrored the Soldier’s words with a smirk. Normally any kind of smirk would have the Soldier back on his knees in an instant, trying to brace himself for whatever came after said face. But the man’s smirk was friendly and kind, inviting more banter. It caught the Soldier off guard and instead of insisting or arguing he simply answered the question.

“My master, ain’t like I got much of a choice in the matter. Rules of the lamp.” He spat.

“I was on a mission to stop a transport-van leaving the city. I wasn’t told what was being transported, only that it was supernatural and dangerous in the wrong hands. I stopped the van and found you. Your. Err… the lamp.”

“And you just decided to keep it?” The Soldier asked, putting a lid on the friendliness. Maybe the man was just a thief after all.

“I didn’t know what it was.” The man hurried, seeming to pick up on the Soldier’s suspicion. “I just… It felt important. It’s hard to trust who’s hands are the right ones these days.”

And that was interesting, especially since he’d spent the last few decades around Hydra operatives who blindly followed every order given to them. “So who do you work for?” The Soldier asked, curious to know who employed the man.

But before the blond could answer a mechanical ping announced that the elevator car had arrived at the floor they were on and the doors parted to let a man out. The Soldier took a step back from the blond man, not noticing just how close they’d been standing until the sight of them made the newcomers eyes widen almost comically.

“Steeeeve.” The newcomer said, narrowing his eyes to stare intently on the blond next to the Soldier. The man, obviously Steve, it was nice to put a name to the gorgeous body, blushed again, his hair coming up to rub at the back of his neck. He looked between the Soldier and the shorter man as he made his way over from where the elevator let out in the middle of the huge living room. The Soldier gave a small shrug, making it clear that this was Steve’s mess to explain. The Soldier wasn’t big on people generally and the less people who knew about him the better.

The shorter man didn’t give Steve a chance to start explaining before he started railing.

“Who is tall dark and shirtless? Why didn’t you tell me you had a guest? Jarvis why didn’t you tell me Steve had a guest?” The man obviously liked the sound of his own voice a lot and it made the Soldier roll his eyes, his arms folding in front of his chest. He had no idea who Jarvis was but he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that the man had an imaginary friend or had named his alter-ego and was frequently talking to himself.

“Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me dark-and-mysterious.” The man called and it made the Soldier wish he was wearing his uniform instead of the thin black sweatpants he always wore when he came out of the lamp. It was much easier to look intimidating when he was decked out in combat gear, all leather and cargo pants and the mask concealing his face. He would really have enjoyed shutting the man up and making him go away with a glare. He’d been enjoying his conversation with the blond Adonis- Steve. And he could tell that the prescence of the shorter man made Steve uneasy as well, his big form tense at the Soldier’s side.

“Sir, it appears there is a supernatural entity in the building.” The electronic voice came out of nowhere and made the Soldier spin around, his body preparing to fight as his heartrate went up a bit. There was no way he could have missed another person being in the room.

“What? A what?” The newcomer asked, dumbfounded and looking around just as confused as the Soldier (but looking way more ridiculous).

“A supernatural entity, sir.” The electronic voice repeated calmly and the Soldier was starting to suspect it was some kind of computer system speaking because it was only the three of them in the room, he was sure of it. Maybe someone watching them from a security camera somewhere.

“Since when? Why wasn’t I informed that there is a supernatural entity in my own building?” The short man asked, sounding upset and trying to subtly reach behind him, presumably for a weapon but frowned when he didn’t find one. It didn’t seem like it had occurred to him that the Solider was said supernatural entity yet because the man held up a finger to them as to ask them to wait to finish the conversation while he dealt with this, more urgent problem.

“I only just detected it sir.”

“How is it that there is a supernatural entity in my building without my knowledge?”

“It appears Captain Rogers brought it in sir.”

“What is it?”

“I have yet to discover that sir.”

“Why did Captain Rogers bring a supernatural entity of unknown origin into my tower?” He turned to fixate his eyes on the blond, voice a few notes higher than before. “Why Steve? WHY?” He accused, probably overdoing the sound of betrayal to add some dramatic effect. The Soldier really didn’t like him. Although he did appreciate the man’s apparent taste for interior decorating.

“It was an accident.” Steve shrugged, but the lines in his face were tense like he was preparing for a fight and the Soldier observed him with interest. Would the blond defend him if the shorter man decided he didn’t want the Soldier in his building? Now there was a thought.

“An accident.” Tony parroted only to realize what he was saying. “An accident??? How do you accidentally bring a supernatural entity of unknown origin into my tower?” The accusing tone got a bit much at the end and the Soldier decided to step in because the blond had brought him in by accident and he was starting to look all sorry and guilty.

“Yeah, Hi. The supernatural entity has a name and guns, and won’t hesitate to shoot you if you keep interrupting its vacation.” The Soldier said, before Steve could try and defend himself against the man who obviously wasn’t very good at listening.

“You don’t have any guns.” The man narrowed his eyes to glare at the Soldier, trying to hide the surprise he must have felt at realizing that he’d been face to face with the entity he was so worried about all along. “Does he have any guns Jarvis?”

“It does not appear so, sir.”

“See. You don’t have any guns. I call your bluff. Now tell me-”

The Soldier had been planning to be civil, really, because while the blond and the short man obviously wasn’t best friends or anything they did seem like they were allies. Steve was living in, or at least staying in, the other man’s home if nothing else but the order in the man’s tone set the Soldier off. He was done taking orders for the time being and he wasn’t going to be treated like someone who would just tell anyone anything they wanted to know simply because they said so. Fuck that. The Soldier pulled the gun he kept concealed in the back of his sweatpants with a bit of creative sowing and aimed. He pulled the trigger before anyone, including Steve, could blink and buried two bullets in the hardwood floor between the short man’s feet.

The short man shrieked, an incredibly indignant sound that made the Solider smile smugly as he put his gun back into his pants while the other man jumped away from the spot. He held his hands up to his sides, the universal gesture of being non-threatening because he really didn’t feel like being attacked by the blond mass of muscle. Once was enough, thank you very much.

“How-” The short man gasped once he’d calmed himself down enough to get words out. “Jarvis you said he didn’t have any guns!”

The blond was looking at the Soldier with mixed emotions on his face, a bit of humor like he thought that the other man probably deserved that but mostly weariness and a note of betrayal. Like he was realizing he’d been wrong to trust the Soldier and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. The Soldier shouldn’t care, he didn’t care because he didn’t care about people period. But lying to himself was only so effective, because the look made him sag a bit in is posture, like a child being yelled at for doing something it knew it wasn’t allowed to and fuck the blond for making him feel like that.

“I could not detect any, sir.” The electronic voice chimed in and the Soldier grew weary wondering exactly how much surveillance the room was under.

“How did you do that?” The short man turned to stare at the Soldier like hiding anything from the electronic voice should have been impossible.

“Magic.” The Soldier shrugged like it’s obvious, because it kind of was for anyone paying attention. The blond gasped a little at his side and the Soldier decided to ignore him and his stupidly pretty face. He wasn’t going to feel guilty for defending himself against orders, no matter what those blue eyes were projecting.

“There’s no such thing as Magic.” The short man argued, eyes narrowing as he took a few hesitating steps toward the Soldier and Steve.

“You must be hallucinating then.” The Soldier said, because he couldn’t care less about the man’s reluctance to believe in magic. If the man wanted to live in denial that was all fine with the Soldier.

He turned his full attention back to the blond again because it was kind of impossible to be irritated with him for long. “You’ve got any plums in this place?” He asked, looking around for the direction of the kitchen. He was going to enjoy this vacation before he inevitable had to return to Hydra and their orders.

 

 

 


	4. Steve Rogers, who?

The Solider sighed heavily, exaggerating the sound and the rise and fall of his shoulders significantly to prove a point. When the blond on the other side of the couch didn’t react, eyes on the TV like he was actually watching the Real Housewives of whatever-city hurl insults at each other the Soldier stretched his leg out, nudging the man in the side of his leg with his big toe until Steve turned his attention to him. Or more like, turned his head to look at him because the Soldier was able to feel the man’s attention on him for the past hour but he was stubbornly pretending to watch the TV and give the Soldier some privacy or space, or something like that.

“Just ask already.” The Soldier said, sounding as annoyed as he felt by the obvious elephant in the room. He was trying to relax, catch up on bad TV and enjoy the ridiculous amount of food that had been delivered to the living room but Steve was making that impossible with his loud thinking. The whole room was vibrating with how much the blond warrior wanted to know more about the priceless artifact he’d stumbled across.

“What?” Steve asked, sounding and looking all innocent like he didn’t have a clue what the Soldier was talking about. It was as annoying as it was endearing (no, seriously, it was just annoying, nothing else, at all).

“Just ask what you wanna know so I can get back to my vacation. Your thinking is distracting me.” The Soldier elaborated, waving a hand at the blond. This was just the Soldier’s luck. He could just leave the Tower of course, ditch Steve and his questions and go find a place where he could vacation in alone but he had to admit that he was a bit intrigued. The Tower was a fricking palace in the sky with all the luxuries of the sultan or and tsars that the Soldier had served, and the blond was certainly an interesting person. It wasn’t like he’d ever encountered a person who had been scientifically enhanced before and he’d been alive for centuries. And Steve blushed really prettily, it was a nice view on top of those muscles.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Steve started and seriously, this guy. He put up a fight like no one the Soldier had ever faced in years and he looked like a roman statue come to life but he did things like apologizing for inconveniencing people. Not that the Soldier was even considered to be people by most how came across his lamp.

“I’m not granting your wishes because you’re not my master. Just having the lamp doesn’t give you power over me, it ain’t that easy.” The Soldier interrupted, hoping that if he answered the usual questions people always seemed to want to know when they found out what he was Steve would be happy and stop pestering him with his loud thinking. “You have to kill my current master to be my next one. You cannot wish for unlimited wishes or immortality and before you ask who my current master is I’m not going to tell you, because killing him would be a suicide-mission and you’re better off not owning me because most wishes have seriously bad consequences. Does that cover it?”

Steve was quiet for a second, most likely battling the disappointment of realizing that he was not in fact the owner of the Genie he’d found. That was the typical reaction people who stumbled across the Soldier’s lamp without having earned the title of master had. The Soldier turned his eyes back to the TV, expecting Steve to maybe prod deeper to try and get the identity of the Soldier’s current master despite being warned to not go down that road. The Solider was willing to make a bet that the blond was incredibly stubborn once he set his mind to something.

“Oh.” The other man said after a short while though, making the Soldier turn his attention back again.

“Oh?” The Soldier repeated, because he didn’t know what to make of the man’s tone.

“I, um, wanted to ask what your name was.” Steve said, smiling sheepishly in a way that wasn’t cute at all on a grown man. Not at all.

“My name?” The Soldier asked, because he’d turned into an echo, apparently.

“Yeah. Well, I can’t keep calling you ‘the Genie’.”

“You don’t call me that though.”

“Oh. Um, well I do. In my head. I mean. I… um. Just generally, not that I think about you a lot… in my head. I just-”

“Don’t hurt yourself, pal.” The Soldier cut him off, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The guy _was_ pretty adorable when he was awkward like that. And just for the way the man’s cheeks got tinged with pink the Soldier decided to humor him.

“Name’s Buchanan.” He said, offering the name gifted to him at birth for the first time in so many decades. There was something different about Steve, the way the man wanted to know his name and not ask a dozen questions on how to go about getting his wishes granted. Maybe the Soldier was just pathetically desperate for any kind of interaction that didn’t evolve around wish-granting or order-taking. Sue him, he was on a vacation.

“I’m Steve.” The man offered in response, smiling like it was a genuine pleasure for him to know the Soldier’s name.

“Yeah, I gathered as much.” The Soldier said, smiling in a way that was bordering on condescending had it not been for the way his eyes were probably way too soft. He gave a murderous glare like nobody’s business usually but Steve’s baby-blues were making it impossible to glare at him even if the Soldier had wanted to.

“Steve Rogers.” The blond added as a way of explanation, like the name was supposed to make bells ring.

The Soldier raised an eyebrow in reply, clearly conveying the lack of ringing bells.

“You don’t-“ The man started, sounding confused and conflicted and the Soldier sat up a bit straighter in the couch, looking him up and down thoroughly.

“I would remember meeting someone like you before. Trust me.” The Soldier said because yeah, there was no doubt in his mind that he had never met Steve Rogers before today. He hadn’t heard of the man either, not that he made the rounds gossiping whenever he was let out of his lamp but he wasn’t living under a rock either. Dying men said a lot with their last breath if you encouraged them, the Soldier had found, and he’d met a lot of those the last few decades. If Steve Rogers was a name he should have known, he would have known it. And he had an excellent memory – sharper than any normal man’s even though he often wished for the opportunity to forget the things he’d been ordered to do.

Steve’s mouth opened and closed like the man had too much to say and it was all tangling up in his throat before he could form the words and the Soldier was curious to know what he was going to say but they were interrupted again.

The elevator made a pleasant noise as it announced the doors being opened, but what came out was anything but, the tornado of red hair and black leather storming out had the Soldier drop the fruit he was about to pick up from the tray on the coffee table.

“WHERE IS IT?” The woman screamed and even before she’d finished her sentence the Soldier knew that while he had no idea who Steve Rogers was, he knew this woman all too well. He manipulated the light around himself to make himself disappear from the woman’s sight, the same way he’d hid his weapons from the Tower’s owner, not quite ready to let her know he was in the room yet. He sent a bitter thanks to the old friend who had taught him the basics of magic back when he wasn’t yet bound to the lamp and a slave to other people.

The woman charged out of the elevator, no weapons drawn but no less deadly because of it. Well, deadly to anyone who wasn’t the Soldier that was. Her hair was a few shades more intense in color than the last time the Soldier had seen her and more unkempt, flowing free like she was in an environment that she was comfortable enough to relax and let her guard down in.

“Where is what?” Steve asked, voice innocent but his posture screamed bloody liar. He took the Soldier’s sudden disappearance from sight fairly well for someone who hadn’t known about the existence of genies an hour ago, only looking around the room with slight confusion. The redhead obviously noticed the lie and her expression turned even more furious.

“You don’t know what you’re messing with Steve-“ She started, sounding ominous and terrified at the same time. The Soldier couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at hearing the scared undertone in her voice. Not many things could scare a woman like that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Natasha.” Steve insisted and the Soldier had obviously been right in his first assessment – the man was stubborn to a fault. He was a terrible liar, body language begging people to not take him at his word and the red head was a master spy at that. He was interested to hear that she went by Natasha now – the last time they’d met there hadn’t exactly been any time to catch up.

“It’s dangerous! It’s-”

“The Winter Soldier, right?” Steve countered, the accusation in his voice throwing the woman off a bit. The Soldier figured that Steve she had had Steve help her steal his lamp but neglected to tell him exactly what they were stealing. That was certainly the woman he remembered – always cunning and working her own angle.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into Steve.” She warned, still advancing on him, graceful like a cat stalking it’s pray, coming in slightly from the side ready to lunge at a moment’s notice.

“What was SHIELD going to do with him?” Steve asked, obviously angry about being lied to but the Soldier couldn’t really focus on the man’s anger once he realized that the game had just gotten entirely new stakes. Steve, and obviously Natasha, was working for SHIELD. SHIELD was the ones who had tried to steal him and this just complicated everything so much. He should really distance himself from Steve, the building and maybe the whole city.

“That’s classified.” Natasha growled before stopping in her tracks, realizing exactly what Steve’s words implied. “YOU LET IT OUT?” She screamed and Steve looked about as surprised as the Solider felt at hearing the woman so desperate she resorted to shouting. Even when the Soldier had put a bullet through her she had barely made a sound.

“Him.” Steve corrected, his lips a thin line of determination. The Soldier was glad that he was hiding from both of them so that they wouldn’t be able to see the no doubt pathetic expression on his face at that comment.

“Steve-“ Natasha warned, no less scared than before even though she’d lowered he voice. “The Winter Soldier is not a person Steve. You can’t trust what he says.”

The Soldier saw the way the determination in the blond’s eyes swayed a bit at the logic of the woman’s words and he kind of expected the man to hand the lamp over to her and get rid of the problem. After all, the Soldier had made it clear that Steve wouldn’t be getting any wishes or use out of him, there was no point for him to keep the Soldier around anymore. But then Steve’s eyes narrowed and he fixed the woman with a sharp glare that the Soldier wouldn’t have guessed the blond capable of.

“He wasn’t the last person to lie to me.” Steve growled back, looking like he was ready to actually physically fight the red head on the Soldier’s behalf when she turned away from the argument to go look for the lamp herself.

The years must have changed the woman the Soldier knew because she actually has the decency to flinch a little at the accusation.

“He is a murderer Steve.” Natasha tries as she starts to actually turn over the cushions on the couch in search of his lamp.

“There’s more to it than that.” The Soldier might have been gaping for a second or two at the pure conviction with which Steve says the words. 

“He tell you that?” Natasha asked, fixing Steve with sharp eyes and no doubt trying to make the man doubt the Soldier’s word. To Steve’s credit the blond didn’t even squirm under her glare.

“If he was he would have tried to kill me already, don’t you think?” Steve reasoned.

“Maybe he’s playing the long game.” Natasha countered, looking around the living room for another place to turn upside down and inside out when she was done with the couch in search of the Soldier’s lamp.

“Maybe he doesn’t have a choice.” The Soldier couldn’t tell if the blond was just willing to always believe the best in people or stubborn to a fault.

“Steve-“ The woman warned but the blond cut her off, his voice and posture suddenly surprisingly authoritative as he took a few steps toward her, placing himself between the door to his bedroom and her.

“Leave him alone Nat. I’ll talk to Fury tomorrow.”

Natasha looked past Steve’s shoulder for a second, looking like she was tempted to keep searching for the lamp in there since Steve seemed suspiciously protective of the space, but after a second she backed off. She seemed to lose a few inches as she gave up and accepted Steve’s refusal and it made the Soldier even more intrigued about the blond. The woman he had known would never have given up on a quest just because someone told her to. Natalia had always been a force of nature when their paths had crossed on missions in the past. If Steve Rogers could make her back down from something he had to be one hell of a man. The Soldier couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated, despite the fact that he knew Rogers couldn’t actually hurt him all that much.

“Be careful Steve.” Natasha warned as the doors to the elevator closed around her, a half-smile on her face like she knew she wasn’t going to follow her advice.

The Soldier released the spell keeping him invisible as soon as he and Steve were alone again. Steve looked a bit surprised at the reveal, like he hadn’t been expecting the Soldier to still be in the room, or even the tower.

“How did you do that?” Steve asked, sounding impressed with the simple spell.

“Magic.” The Soldier shrugged, like he wasn’t at all affected by the fact that Steve seemed impressed with him. Because he wasn’t. At all. “So you work for SHIELD, huh?” He continued, changing the subject as he put his feet up on the coffee-table and allowed himself to lunge back on the couch and make himself comfortable again. Last time he’d sat on a couch had probably been sometime in the Second World War in Germany, the last time he’d been free.

“Kind of.” Steve answered vaguely, a tightness around his mouth that suggested he didn’t see eye to eye with his employers. Well, the Soldier could relate there. He raised an eyebrow for Steve to continue but the man seemed hesitant.

“They keep a lot of secrets.” Steve settled on after a while, getting back to sit on the opposite side of the same couch as the Soldier. “And I’m starting to believe that they’re not as morally superior as they’re trying to get me to believe they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are slow, but they do happen! ;)


	5. A big reveal

So, Steve has a Genie sitting on his couch. Well, technically it’s Stark’s couch but paying for things and providing for people through monetary means seems to be how Howard’s son shows affection, so Steve allows it even though he isn’t really comfortable with letting someone pay for everything from his luxury apartment to his orange juice. But back to the Genie. Because Genies are a thing. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised – he fought Aliens and his team-mates turns into green rage-monsters and are literal Gods, but still.

It’s not like Steve spent a lot of time in his life imagining what meeting a Genie would be like, but even so the person appearing before him is nothing like what he’d been expecting. The man is sharp; intelligent and observant which colors his sense of humor and probably makes him even more dangerous than his supernatural strength and magical abilities. It’s obvious that whoever his current master is they don’t treat him well and gives him orders he doesn’t want to comply with, and that he doesn’t enjoy his calling. He wonders if maybe the man is as starved for basic human decency as Steve is.

And the Genie – Buchanan, is also absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. The black pants are the only thing he wears, a sheer, slightly see-through material that flows from his hips and tightens around his ankles. He is barefoot, feet currently propped up on the coffee-table which prize-tag Steve doesn’t even want to think about, and not wearing anything to cover his toned chest. Which is completely hairless and almost as broad as Steve’s own. His, _oh god_ , nipples, are adorned with silver jewelry and a thin silvery collar wraps around his throat. Steve isn’t staring at him, seriously, but it’s taking all of his willpower to resist.

He kind of wants to sit back on the couch and watch shitty TV-programs with Buchanan. Join in on the man’s ‘vacation’ and tune out the world and catch up on what the both of them seems to have missed. It would be nice sitting through something without people watching his every reaction and making commentary on how _unbelievable_ it is that Steve hasn’t seen this or that before even though it’s pretty believable given that he spent most of his time since he got off the ice fighting to save the world, not watching TV. But as much as he wants to, he know he can’t. The man sitting across the couch from him isn’t just a friendly neighborhood Genie showing up out of nowhere – he is also the Winter Soldier and currently wanted by SHIELD, and they have to talk about that. Soon. Seriously, Steve will bring up the fact that the two were basically trying to kill each other a week ago and that Buchanan’s master is probably a really bad guy who Steve needs to stop. He’ll do it soon. It’s just; somehow the Genie worked it out of Steve that they could order takeout pizza on Stark’s dime and Jarvis just announced that no less than five cartons of pizza are currently on their way upstairs. It would be a waste of good pizza to bring up the whole; are we mortal enemies-thing.

Then Buchanan makes a sound around a mouthful of pizza that has Steve blushing so deep he feels it on his chest and then they’re watching the Lion King because Clint keeps bugging him about watching Disney movies and Buchanan had refused to watch Frozen when Steve had suggested it because it seemed like it was a movie with good values. In fact, the Genie had vetoed anything that was cold and Steve took a minute to realize that the reason for why the man had such a strong opposition to winter-movies was because the inside of the lamp was freezing and he hated that. So Steve had figured that a Disney movie set in Africa would be the perfect antithesis to anything cold.

But as the credits to the Lion King was started rolling and they both turned away from the screen pretending that neither had noticed the other one holding in tears as Simba believed he’d killed his father Steve realized that he couldn’t put the discussion off anymore, just like Simba couldn’t hide in the jungle forever even though the vacation from his problems had been nice and full of snacks.

“Why did you kill Agent Thirteen?” He asked, all Captain America’s righteous interrogation-voice with the matching stern expression to match. He hadn’t meant to sound that way, but agent Carter had been a good SHIELD-agent and her getting assassinated was a reflection of personal failure to save her on Steve’s part. Also, the fact that she was Peggy Carter’s niece and he was sitting on the sofa next to her killer might be weighing on his conscious.

The expression on the Soldier’s face was that of someone who had swallowed something very sour without expecting it and the man adjusted his posture before answering, withdrawing his legs from the coffee-table to put them under himself in a defensive position that Steve didn’t think he was even aware of.

“Because my Master ordered me to.” He said after a few beats of silence, his answer honest but his tone very defensive.

“You always do what you’re told?” Steve couldn’t help it. He wanted to believe that there was more to it than simple respect for authority that made the charming man in his apartment a murderer, but the ‘I had to’-argument had never gone over well with Steve. There was always a choice.

But the Genie’s response took Steve completely by surprise. He’d been expecting the man to go on the offence, lash out and become angry based of the defensiveness in his tone. But instead the question seemed to have the effect that a needle had inserted into a balloon. The Genie seemed to shrink as his posture lost all the fight he had, shoulders sagging and eyes no longer able to look straight at Steve. The reaction had Steve feeling way worse than he would have thought possible. If he had the ability to go back and change time he might have chosen to go back two minutes and keep his mouth shut instead of 70 years to jump out of a plane with a parachute instead of going down with it.

“Yes.” The Genie said, sounding so resigned that Steve didn’t quite know what to do. He might have hugged the other man if he was the kind of person who knew how to initiate physical contact. He could probably count the times in his entire life where he had pulled someone into a hug or held someone’s hand of his own accord.

“Is it because of the-“ Steve asked, treading carefully and waving his hand at Buchanan to indicate the whole genie-in-a-lamp-thing which he didn’t quite know what to call.

“Yeah.” The other man sighed. Then he raised his head to look at Steve again, a slim hand pushing back a few strands of hair from his face. “I can’t not obey an order. It’s not like ‘I refuse and I die’-thing because trust me, I would have gladly died centuries ago.” The confession hit Steve harder than it should, and he didn’t quite reflect on the centuries-part as much as he did on the that-would-have-been-a-terrible-waste-part. “I physically can’t, no more than you can physically will the cells in your body to stop grow or something like that.”

“Because of magic?” Steve asked, still not quite able to wrap his head around the whole magic-exists thing.

“Something like that.” Buchanan answered, clearly conveying that he wasn’t going to go into more detail on the subject at that point.

“Who is your master?” Steve was quick to change subject because that was what the whole thing had been leading up to anyway. He needed to know how the Winter Soldier worked for, who had ordered an assassination on one of SHIELD’s most promising agents. And if they had someone as strong and able as Buchanan in their weaponry Steve needed to know who, or what, their next target was because it was obvious to anyone that it didn’t end with killing Sharon Carter. She was just a piece on the board, not the end-game.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” The other man asked and Steve didn’t quite know what to make of his tone.

“No.” He said honestly.

The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes, but Steve was pretty sure that he found Steve’s stubbornness endearing. “He is the most dangerous man in the world.” Buchanan warned.

“I fought one of those before.” Steve said, shrugging, because every bad guy seemed to think that they were the biggest and bad-est. That apparently hadn’t changed with the century. “I’m still alive and he’s not.”

“Impressive.” Buchanan deadpanned, the deliverance relaying that he wasn’t that impressed at all.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve tried to assure him because while it was kind of sweet that the Genie didn’t want to tell him and didn’t want Steve to get hurt going after whoever his master was, it was also kind of condescending. Steve had hated it when he was small enough to warrant it, and he’d hated it in the military but now that he’d proved his worth to the world over and over again he wasn’t going to be underestimated again.

“Cause you’re enhanced with some super-serum?” Buchanan shook his head, a soft smile on those lips that Steve definitely shouldn’t look at and consider to be pretty right now. “Look, you’re obviously not dumb but we’re talking about the most powerful man on the planet right now. Your muscles, as fine as they are, don’t stand a chance.”

The disbelieving look on Steve’s face seemed to communicate just how much bullshit he considered that brag to be. Unless Buchanan suggested that the President of the United States of America had a secret drawer for a lamp in the Oval Office-desk there was no way this master was as powerful as the Genie said.

“I’m more than just strong you know.” Steve said.

“Alright, I’m sorry, you’re _super_ strong.” The Genie’s smile was teasing and almost enough to make Steve lose focus as he got lost in the dimples on the man’s face for a second or two.

“I’m Captain America.” Steve revealed, trying not to let on how reluctant he was to share that information with his new-found… friend. Friend, maybe mortal enemy. It wasn’t like he was picky with who he called his friends anyway; the Black Widow and the Hulk were both friends and potential mortal enemies at the same time after all. But it had been nice to have someone who didn’t look at him and just see the shield and the stars and the potential to become an Instagram-celebrity if they could just get that perfect selfie with ‘Cap’. But it wasn’t like Steve wasn’t used to sacrificing things for the good of the world by now.

“Oh, sorry, was I supposed to applaud? Make some sort of gasp? Because I’m not the gasping-swooning kind of guy.” Buchanan said, and Steve was actually relieved that neither of those alternatives seemed to even be on the table. “I don’t exactly socialize a lot when I’m on a mission Steve.”

“I’m an Avenger?” Steve tried, suddenly not so pleased with the fact that Buchanan hadn’t heard about him anymore. Thanks for the logic, brain.

“Oh.” The Genie seemed to consider that for a moment, before he obviously connected the dots. “ _Oh_.” He repeated. “We’re in Stark Tower right now, aren’t we?”

“Yep.” Steve said.

“Well. That might change things.” Buchanan mused, more to himself than to Steve probably. “Fine. You want to know who ordered a hit on that Agent? And plenty more people during the last year that I’m sure you didn’t even know were murders.” The Genie said. “Fine. My Master is Alexander Pierce.”

Steve looked at the man in silence for over half a minute before he started laughing, despite the grim expression on the Genie’s face. Because Alexander Pierce? Head of the World Security Counsel, brother in everything but blood to Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, uncle to the sweetest nice whose birthday-party had been a huge success last year when Steve had spent an hour blowing balloon-animals? _That_ Alexander Pierce? 

“That’s the one.” The Genie said, and Steve realized that he’d spoken out loud but whatever. The idea was just absurd. And he was just about to tell Buchanan that, and get angry because the other man was obviously playing him and maybe he was just stalling Steve like Natasha had suggested. But Buchanan wasn’t done.

“Only, he’s not really the director of SHIELD. He is the director of HYDRA.”


	6. Meet the Avengers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm experimenting with something new instead of having the Avengers be a super-cozy family from the very beginning. Don't hate me for making Nat and Tony a bit unlikable ;)

“Alright, so to make sure I got this right-“

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius?” Steve asked, his patience with Tony pretty much on its last leg. He’d been interrupting Buchanan’s attempts at explaining the pretty serious and life-threatening situation with completely unnecessary commentary every step of the way for hours now and it was starting to give Steve a headache.

“Oh I’m sorry if I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that a fricking Genie in a bottle – Aouch! Rude much?” Tony interrupted himself with an exaggerated cry since the Buchanan had thrown a grape at his head and it couldn’t possibly have hurt.

“I don’t come from a bottle.” The Genie said, slow and dangerous in a voice that gave Steve a not entirely unpleasant tingling somewhere in his lower back, daring Tony to make another comment on the subject and glaring at him in a way that made every single superhero in the room feel a bit nervous. Natasha even shifted her weight from one leg to the other and her fingers twitched around the handle of the knife she had in her hand, not even trying to be subtle about her dislike for having the Winter Soldier in the Tower. Not that Steve cared much about Natasha’s personal comfort right now since she’d been trying to _steal a person_ a few hours ago, using Steve to help her doing it. But it said something that the Winter Soldier was powerful enough to make the Black Widow uneasy.

“Lamp. Whatever.” Tony rolled his eyes and pretended that there weren’t a small bead of nervous sweat making its way down the side of his face. “But hearing that SHIELD, the very organization we work for, is really being controlled by the Nazi-group from World War 2 Steve thought he’d taken care of is a pretty big thing to just accept I think. And on top of that, the Genie says that Hydra has a plan to execute a few million people on the spot in three weeks.”

“That’s why I was ordered to kill Agent 13. She was one of the few agents at SHIELD who’s alligencies does not lie with Hydra. Somehow she caught on to some suspicious activity and managed to access too much information about project Insight. She managed to set the launch back about a week and was about to alert Nicholas Fury when I caught up to her. She was good.” Buchanan said, his voice void of emotion as if he couldn’t care less but Steve doubted that that was the case. It was more probable that the Genie didn’t want to appear weak or vulnerable in front of the Avengers, none of which were being very friendly or welcoming despite the fact that he was obviously on their side and not Hydra’s. Looking past the feigned indifference in the Genie’s eyes Steve saw the same wary-ness with war that was reflected back at himself every morning in the mirror.

“And we want him on our team, why?” Stark blurted, turning to glare at Steve.

“Without him we wouldn’t have known anything about this. Hell, we have probably unwittingly been helping Hydra further Project Insight all this time.” Steve said, the words tasting sour in his mouth and making him clench his fists. He’d been having his doubts about SHIELD’s trustworthiness before finding the lamp but this was a whole new level or betrayal. SHIELD had been Peggy’s legacy, her entire life’s work and that had been the reason Steve had joined them in the first place. If Peggy had believed in SHIELD surely he could too, and he’d fought for them despite wanting nothing more than to put his own shield in the back of some dusty closet.

“I still don’t know why we should just take him at his word.” Stark argued because it seemed like the man was incapable of not arguing about everything and anything just for the sake of arguing. He was a lot more agreeable when Miss Potts was around but Stark had sent her on a weekend-getaway to Paris as soon as the supernatural-entity-of-unknown-origin had aimed and fired a gun at him.

“Why would he make something like this up?” Steve sighed, feeling like they were getting nowhere. He was pretty sure he’d asked the same question an hour back and that the topic of conversation had somehow come right back to this point due to Stark’s stubbornness and Hawkeye’s terrible jokes and Natasha’s glaring. Buchanan had provided plenty evidence to support his claims – he knew things about SHIELD and HYDRA and both Pierce and Nick Fury that there was no way of knowing unless you were at the center-point of the whole organization. And Natasha had, albeit reluctantly, supported his claims about historical events and been specific enough with the details to convince Natasha that not only was he the Winter Soldier, the missions he had been sent on were not random but connected and could all eventually be traced back to HYDRA.

“Why would he tell us?” Barton asked and at least that was a new question, although he was clearly heavily biased by Natasha’s dislike for the Genie and unable to remain neutral and open-minded toward Buchanan.

The Genie seemed unfazed by the way the Avengers talked over him, like he was used to it and hadn’t really expected anything else. It made Steve’s blood boil that his supposed friends would treat him so rudely just because his abilities frightened them.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Steve countered, not feeling even the slightest bit childish at the stubborn argument.

“It’s a pretty good strategy to get into your head and make you think he is an ally.” Natasha said calmly, probably knowing how much the remark would get on Steve’s nerves as she accused Buchanan of still being on HYDRA’s side yet again. Steve had lost count on how many times she was up to now.

“Just because you are unable to have a functioning relationship with anyone doesn’t mean everyone is out to get you or have ulterior motives.” Steve snapped, internally wincing at his own words as soon as he heard them out loud. He couldn’t decipher whether or not Natasha was hurt by his words but didn’t exactly regret them either. When he first came out of the ice Natasha had been spying on him for SHIELD’s benefit, placing bugs in his apartment and reporting back directly to Nick Fury while at the same time acting like his friend, introducing him to modern things and trying to send him on dates as if they were buddies. But the thing that really made him hold a grudge was the fact that she’d actually tried to sleep with him because SHIELD leadership suggested they needed to keep him on a tighter leash after he’d attended a protest in Washington DC to protest how poorly the government was treating its veterans.

Living in Stark Tower was an arrangement of convenience and security really because there was no way SHIELD or even Natasha could sneak anything electronic past JARVIS. And Stark had too much daddy-issues to have time to care about what Steve did with his private time and he disliked SHIELD even more than Steve did. Sure, the battle of New York had brought the Avengers a little closer but there was a difference between trusting someone to have your back in a war against aliens and trusting them as a friend.

Steve felt the Genie’s eyes watch him through his uncharacteristic outburst and it made him squirm a bit. He didn’t want Buchanan to think that he was an asshole and opened his mouth to apologize, but Natasha beat him to it.

“Don’t.” She said simply, her neutral voice betraying nothing.

“Awkward.” Stark chimed in and Steve felt the urge to punch something. Seriously, that man was infuriating.

“Alright, time out.” Barton said, getting to his feet to step away from where he’d been sitting on the armrest of the couch, Natasha at his back. “It’s just, you’ve been fighting for HYDRA for decades and now you’re in Stark Tower surrounded by Avengers and you want to fight them all of a sudden? It seems too good to be true. Why not last decade? Why not when you shot Natasha? You killed for them just a few weeks ago.”

“Who said I wanted to fight them?” The Genie said, making Steve do a double take and stare at him in confusion. The Genie _had_ said that at some point, right? “Don’t get me wrong.” He added quickly at Steve’s reaction. “I’m not with HYDRA. But what I really want is to _not_ fight. Ever again.” He said it with such emotion in his voice that Steve’s heart did something close to a sympathetic twitch, the sentiment echoing through his entire being. If it was anything Steve could relate to in this new world, being sick of war was it.

“So don’t fight then.” Stark suggest, helpful as ever. Steve and Buchanan rolled their eyes at the same time and Steve purposefully didn’t look at Natasha to see her reaction to that.

“I can’t.”

“He can’t.”

They said it in unison and this time Barton was the one who rolled his eyes. Tony made an irritated hand gesture for Buchanan to go on and explain and the Genie looked like he was tempted to grab Natasha’s knife and cut the gesturing hand off. But he took a deep breath and explained himself.

“I can’t defy my Masters orders. I want to, but I can’t.” Buchanan explained with a finality to his words that left no room for the but-have-you-tried-this that was obviously on the tip of Stark’s tongue.

“The same way it seems like you can’t wear a shirt?” Stark commented and Steve tore his eyes away from the Genie’s torso where the shining piercing on his left nipple had caught and held Steve’s attention for the better part of the explanation. He wasn’t sure Stark had made the comment because he’d noticed Steve staring or if it was just Stark being Stark but Steve didn’t need to be looking now that more attention was turned to the beauty of Buchanan’s body. Steve kept very quiet about the fact that he didn’t have any objections to the Genie not wearing anything to cover his torso.

“But you can tell his secrets to his biggest adversaries?” Natasha inquired, acting like she hadn’t heard Stark’s comment because she was classy like that. She obviously wasn’t convinced about the Genie’s motives yet.

“He never swore me to silence. Didn’t bother to. I’m under strict orders not to talk to anyone who isn’t HYDRA or imperative to the success of the mission, but this ain’t a mission.” He explained.

“So if you’re on a mission and you have to pee. Can you ask the waiter at a diner to use the restroom because it’s imperative to the mission that you don’t pee yourself?” Stark asked with no shame as if that was somehow relevant to the conversation.

The Winter Soldier was unimpressed with the question and Steve guessed that he must have heard hundreds of versions of it. “I don’t need to pee. Or eat. Or sleep.” He said and Steve noticed the way Natasha twirled the knife between his fingers at hearing that piece of information. He wondered how long _she_ would go without sleeping knowing that because she wouldn’t trust Buchanan to not try and kill her while she was vulnerable in a way he wasn’t.

“Huh.” Stark contemplated. “So. Magic?”

“Yes.” Buchanan answered. “I’m not quite sure how it works. If any of you had been HYDRA and you ordered be to shut up I’d be compelled to, even if I didn’t know that you were HYDRA before you gave me an order. Because my Master ordered me to obey any and all orders from a HYDRA operative. The magic of the lamp makes the rules.”

Steve made a face at that, wondering if smashing the lamp would set the Genie free from its rules. He’d ask Buchanan if it was an option when they were alone again, but he didn’t want to bring the object up in front of the other Avengers. Buchanan had begged Steve to put it somewhere out of sight when Steve had announced that they needed to have a team meeting to discuss the sudden revelation about HYDRA still existing and it didn’t seem like a subject the Genie wanted to discuss with anyone. But the thought of anyone living a life with such limitations on freedom and free will woke a righteous fury inside Steve. If freeing this Genie from HYDRA’s clutches on that premise alone wasn’t a cause worthy of fighting then what was?

“That still doesn’t explain why _now_?” Barton asked, his tone not quite as accusatory anymore as he seemed to consider the possibility that maybe the Winter Soldier wasn’t trying to make himself a double agent but was actually a potential ally.

The Genie turned his whole head toward Steve so that there would be no hesitation as to whom he was looking at.

“Geeez.” The tone of Stark’s voice alone had Steve blushing. He did _not_ need the added mutter of “The power of boners, seriously.” Steve had been catching up on all things 21th century and while he didn’t get the exact reference he understood it well enough to blush even harder under the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow’s looks.

“He fought me and he was good enough to stop me, had I been mortal. I’ve never met anyone who might have had a chance to take on HYDRA before.” Buchanan seemed oblivious to the innuendo of Stark’s comment (luckily for Steve’s blood-pressure) and turned to Natasha. “No offence.” Natasha’s mouth made a bitter twitch before she could catch herself.

“Alright, I’m going to dig through SHIELD’s files to see if I can find any evidence for what magic-boy here is claiming.” Stark announced by clapping his hands together and getting off the couch so unexpectedly that it had everyone jumping a bit. He’d probably been engaged in a thorough inner monologue like he seemed prone to at times and forgotten that the rest of the room was there. Steve was glad for the break in the tension.

Buchanan offered Tony a few words and phrases which were used as code between HYDRA operatives that would be impossible to notice if you didn’t know about them beforehand which triggered Tony’s competitive streak and had the man claiming that nothing was too sophisticated to escape Jarvis. To which Bucky pulled out his gun again, the weapon which Stark seemed to have forgotten about until it was waved in his face.

Steve couldn’t help but smile at Iron Man’s reaction for a second before he registered a movement to the side of him. He saw the knife leaving Natasha’s hand, her aim dead on as she threw the knife she’d been guarding the whole night straight for Buchanan’s throat, exposed as his head was thrown back to laugh at how Stark looked like he might pee himself when faced with a magically appearing gun. He didn’t hesitate for a second as he threw himself into the path of the knife, the long blade capable of doing _a lot_ of damage to anything. He’d worked in a Butcher’s shop a few weeks between bouts of pneumonia once and none of the knives in there had been half as big as this one.

“Steve!” Natasha called out for him in an attempt to stop him but he wasn’t convinced it was in concern for his wellbeing as much as it was in concern of the wellbeing of Captain America. It would probably be a pain for her to explain to her supervisors at SHIELD/HYDRA that she put Captain America in the hospital.

Steve grunted in pain as the sharp edge of the knife lodged itself deep into his outstretched palm and stumbled a bit, the sharp bite of pain making him lose his balance before he could lean against the back of a conveniently placed armchair. He grit his teeth to keep in a bunch of swear-words lining up on the tip of his tongue and directed a glare at the Widow.

“He had a gun.” She said defensively and Steve noticed that she was holding a gun of her own now that one of her hands wasn’t busy with a knife anymore.

“Seriously?” He said, ignoring her attempt at justifying trying to kill someone who he had declared an ally.

“He can’t be trusted!” She said, not sounding very sorry at all about her motives, but maybe slightly about the consequences.

“You’re the one who can’t be trusted. I told you he’s not the enemy and you said you’d hear him out.”

“He pulled a gun on Tony!”

“It was a joke.” Steve gritted out between his teeth, the blood pooling on his knee starting to make him a bit lightheaded. “Just get out.” He added, addressing the rest of his fellow Avengers.


	7. Magic hands

“Just pull it out.” Steve said and the Genie made a face at him.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Buchanan said, cradling Steve’s wrist in a careful but firm grip with one hand and steadying his palm with the other. The knife was in deep enough that it would just need a tiny push to completely penetrate Steve’s palm but it wasn’t like it would permanently injure him. Steve would have pulled it out himself but Buchanan had stopped him and stared at him like was crazy which was kind of sweet but the Genie had yet to pull it out himself and Steve was getting sick of having a blade in his palm.

“It hurts now.” Steve said, but instead of the convincing effect he expected the argument would have the Genie’s facial expression fell significantly and he would probably have winced bodily if it wasn’t for the fact that any sudden movement would cause Steve even more pain.

“Hey, this wasn’t your fault.” Steve told him, wishing he wasn’t so awkward about initiating physical contact. It would have felt really good to put his un-injured hand on the Genie’s shoulder in a comforting gesture he guessed, but he couldn’t tell if it would be a good idea. Did Buchanan want to be touched? Would it turn awkward? How long was that kind of touch supposed to last before Steve had to pull his hand away? Did he squeeze, or just let his palm rest on that broad curve? Would he _be able_ to pull his hand away? Would touching the Genie scratch an itch or would it infect him with a tenfold heightened need for any kind of physical comfort? Geez, he really was pathetic.

“The Widow was aiming at me.” The Genie said, and the apology was loud and clear in his voice even if he didn’t say the words.

“Well, I’m fine.” Steve said, trying to lighten the mood by wiggling his fingers. He managed it without making a sound but his face must have given something away because the Genie’s eyes grew a few shades darker as they narrowed in a glare that made Steve swallow hard, not from fear but from the intensity of being studied to carefully by someone like Buchanan.

“You’re not fine, you’re in pain. That’s the opposite of fine.” The Genie said, speaking slowly and stubbornly like maybe Steve was retarded and would only get it if he was clear enough.

“I can handle it.” Steve said, the words coming to automatically he didn’t even need to think about it. It sounded mechanical even to himself, but it usually convinced reporters and his teammates alike.

“I’m sure you can. But you shouldn’t have to.” Buchanan waited quietly until Steve finally met his eyes, not quite sure what to say to that because he had never really had anyone talk to him like that before. Most people just assumed that he didn’t feel pain like normal people did, or that maybe he did but he could endure it because he healed fast. He was a superhero and a soldier, pain was literally in the job-description.

Then, holding Steve’s gaze to look for his reaction the grip on Steve’s hand shifted and he cringed a little as the Genie’s hand gently closed around the hilt of the knife. It didn’t hurt that much, the knife only moved a fraction of an inch under Buchanan’s steady hand but the nerves all the way up to Steve’s elbow felt like they’d been electrocuted. He clenched his teeth hard in anticipation, but before he could close his eyes and brace himself for the Genie to just get it over with, he felt the Genie’s hand slowly stroke up his under-arm.

“Relax.” Buchanan said, his words almost a whisper and his palm suddenly very warm, way warmer than any human would be naturally. Steve’s frowned and looked down to where the Genie’s hand made it’s way up Steve’s forearm. He couldn’t see anything different about it, it was just pale flesh meeting sunkissed muscles, beautiful fingers made to play instruments and pay attention to the smallest details stroking up Steve’s tense body. He’d half been expecting to see some kind of other-worldly glow, because the way the touch made his muscles relax so completely with the added heat was obviously because of magic. The heat spread to everywhere where Buchanan’s palm was touching him at first, and then even further up to his biceps and his shoulders like it spread through his blood or something, until his entire arm was so relaxed and limp he doubted he’d be able to swat away a kitten.

“Woah.” He exclaimed, unable to find the words for the kind of magic Buchanan had used on him and the Genie laughed a little at his reaction.

“You are really tense you know.” Buchanan said, a surprising softness to his voice that Steve hadn’t heard before.

Steve had meant to continue being stoic and answer ‘that’ll happen when you have a knife in you’ but that wasn’t the words that came out of his mouth. “Mm. Might need you to do my back too.” He swore that wasn’t what he was planning to say, because seriously.

The Genie just gave chuckle in response though before he started pulling the knife out for real this time. The warmth had relaxed Steve’s muscles to the point where he couldn’t tighten them against the pain even though he could feel his brain trying to brace his body. It still hurt, but it hurt a lot less then it would have if he’d been tense and clenching his muscles.

Steve wasn’t sure where Buchanan had gotten bandages from but as soon as the knife fell to the floor with a loud clatter soft gauze was being pressed into his palm, the pressure soothing the pain a little.

“That’s some magic.” Steve said, feeling how his arm was slowly starting to return to it’s normal temperature as he regained control over his muscles. They weren’t nearly as tense as the one’s on his opposite arm though – he’d never even considered the fact that he might get knots, that seemed like something the serum would fix but apparently he’d been carrying more tension in his body that he’d realized.

Buchanan shrugged at the statement.

“What else can you do?” Steve asked, because he was intrigued. Magic was a new concept to him – he had only seen a glimpse of what the tesseract could do and Thor was pretty hesitant to talk about the magic he and his brother possessed.

“A little of this, little of that.” The Genie said with a smirk, eyes smiling now that Steve wasn’t in active pain because of him any longer. Steve wanted to press but he didn’t want to be intrusive and if Buchanan didn’t want to tell him he wasn’t under any obligations. And besides, the other man cut in with a question of his own before Steve could open his mouth.

“So, what’s up with you and the Widow?” Buchanan asked, tightening the bandage around Steve’s palm on the last wrap-around before tucking the tail in under one of the layers and turning Steve’s hand over a few times to make sure it wouldn’t come lose.

The question took Steve by surprise, and he considered refusing to answer for a while before deciding against it. There was something about Buchanan that made Steve feel… safe, about being vulnerable. The way he conveyed that Steve didn’t have to be strong, didn’t have to pull up a façade and pretend to be immune to pain just to impress him. The way it seemed like being vulnerable would actually impress the Genie _more_ than pretending not to be.

“She was my first kiss since 1945.” Steve said, shrugging like it was nothing because he didn’t want to burden the Genie by laying the whole depressing ordeal on from the start.

“Oh.” The Genie said, lips twisting into a knowing smirk that made Steve’s stomach uneasy.

“No, not like that.” He was quick to cut in because he didn’t want Buchanan to get the wrong idea. “It didn’t mean anything to her. I was just an assignment.” He said, having no control over how bitter he sounded.

“Oh.” The Genie repeated, this time a whole different tone. Not quite pity, but close enough to it that Steve felt irritated by it anyway.

“I wanted to take her on a date afterward.” Steve laughed bitterly at his own naiveté. “It’s not like I was head over heels for her, but we had a lot in common and I thought maybe she could understand me like no-one else could. It was worth building on.”

“But the little spider was on a mission, huh?”

“Yeah. Shield wanted to control me and they thought using her would be the most effective way.”

“Wow. That’s real classy.”

Steve laughed darkly and shook his head. “She was just doing what she thought was right. It’s just, things like that _matter_ to me. It’s not very modern, it wasn’t even how most guys felt back in my day. I just wanted my first kiss since I came back to mean something. It’s stupid-“

“It’s not stupid.” Buchanan sounded so sincere that Steve had to meet the Genie’s eyes and once he did he couldn’t tear himself away. Buchanan’s eyes were silvery grey, just like the chrome color of his lamp and his mouth was a little bit open, not even an inch but enough that his lips appeared even fuller, the redness so tempting that it Steve couldn’t help himself as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, the motion unconscious until Buchanan’s eyes flickered to it and heat rose in Steve’s cheeks. He was just about to meet the Genie’s eyes again, maybe lean forward and cup his cheek with his hand –

Steve cried out in pain as his newly wounded hand responded to what he’d been planning in his mind by attempting to move it’s fingers and sending starbursts of pain up his shoulder and down his spine, effectively ruining any kind of moment Steve might have imagined they were having. Because when he looked back the Soldier was on the other side of the bathroom (and that was quite a distance because even the bathrooms in Stark Tower were big enough to fit an apartment into), tucking away Tony’s very extensive first aid-kit.

“How do _you_ know Natasha?” Steve might have kind of blurted the words out, just to fill the silence between them. He was proud of himself for not asking Buchanan’s opinion on donkeys or something equally ridiculous because his brain felt like it was in the middle of a meltdown at the moment.

“I knew _Natalia_.” The Genie answered, his voice sounding like nothing had happened at all and Steve was pretty sure he’d made the whole tension up. “I was her nightmare. I killed off the girls in the Black Widow program who didn’t show enough potential and trained them. I taught her was fear really was. And then I shot her of course, just as she believed she was rid of the terrors of her past. I can understand why she doesn’t want to work with me.”

“Huh.” Was all Steve could really come up with in response to that knowledge. That meant that the Genie was at least as old as he was.

“The Mistress at the Red Room was my current Master then. She was the one who sold me to Hydra when it seemed like the Soviets where going to lose the Cold War.”

“I thought you said someone had to kill your current master if they wanted to own the lamp?” Steve asked, careful to note every detail about how the magic of the lamp worked.

“Yeah, but she didn’t know that.” The Genie smiled coldly. “They killed her and then ordered me to go after every single person currently at the Red Room. Natalia had left a few years earlier, I was glad I didn’t have to kill her. She was my favorite.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at that. It didn’t seem like the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier had had that kind of close relationship.

“I wouldn’t have done her any favors if I had gone easy on her.” Buchanan explained and Steve could understand that argument. Being the strongest was how she’d been the only girl to survive the Widow-program, that had been in her file. “She respects you though.”

Steve gave a dry laugh at that because Buchanan couldn’t be more wrong. Stark probably respected him more than the Red Widow did.

“No she does.” Buchanan insisted and the conviction in his voice made Steve waver a bit in his own conviction. “She would have slit your throat for wanting to work with me if she didn’t. But she is considering it now because you told her to. She wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I taught her better than that.” There was a bitterness to the end of his statement which Steve really wanted to unwrap, guilt tainting those sparkling eyes and making the Winter Soldier’s shoulders sag as if there was a literal weight of his responsibilities on his shoulders.

“She always has her own agenda and she keeps secrets from everyone. I can’t trust her because I don’t know her. She’s a different person to everyone, puts on the best face to manipulate them with. I don’t even think she knows who she really is.” Steve said, dragging his un-injured hand across his face because this was something he struggled with regularly. It was nice to have someone who listened.

The Genie was quiet for a while before he answered, obviously giving the matter a lot of thought and Steve was grateful because that meant that his answer wouldn’t just be a platitude to get him to stop worrying like the one he’d been hit with when he went to Phil Coulson to voice his concerns about his team.

“I think you can trust who she wants to be. But it’s not always easy to be who you want to be when people need you to be the person you were.”


End file.
